Page 101 of Disorder (Elite of Elmwood 2)

The car ride wasn’t long enough. Grayson pulled into the long driveway, the Viper’s engine purring. He put the car into park and faced me, a dark smile twitching on his lips. “I’m not.”

That was better. Nice Grayson made me nervous, and I didn’t need any more help in that department. My eyes shifted to the enormous house looming in front of me. Shit was about to get real.

This was my do-or-die moment. I swallowed a knot that suddenly formed in my throat.

Chapter Twenty

Idon’t think my heart ever hammered so hard before as it did walking through the front door of the Edwardses’ home. Grayson’s dad was still at the office. My brother grabbed my wrist, tugging me down the hallway. Such an odd phrase—my brother. Would I get used to this? Would I always feel like the odd one out?

My legs seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each. Walking became difficult, like I was trudging through a swamp of mud.

We found Liana in her office, eyes scanning the computer screen. Grayson knocked softly before he said, “Mom?”

She lifted her gaze, a soft smile forming on her lips, eyes lighting up at the sight of her son in the doorway.

Shit. I can’t do this.

Grayson’s hands tightened on my shoulders, keeping me in place. “There something we need to tell you.”

Her eyes noticed the seriousness on her son’s face, heard it in his voice. Sensing that what he had to say was important, she closed her laptop. “Okay, what’s up?”

There was a worn leather couch on the opposite wall of her desk that looked like it got plenty of use. Grayson navigated me to the couch, sitting down beside me. I didn’t know what to do, so I laced my hands together to keep from fidgeting. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her and kept my eyes averted to the floor. My nails dug deep enough into my palms that I was afraid of finding blood on them once I unclenched my fists.

Grayson shifted as he searched for the right words. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out and—”

Her gasp drew my gaze upward to see her hands flying to cheeks. “Ohmygod, your pregnant. She’s having your baby.”

Color stained my cheeks. I was mortified at Liana’s conclusion, as was Grayson. His face scrunched. “Ew. That is literally the grossest conclusion you could have come up with. Seriously, Mom, I’m going to be sick. Josie and I are not… dating,” he finally settled on, unable to mention sex in the same sentence as him and me. I didn’t blame him.

After getting over the initial humiliation, I found the whole thing comical. It relieved some of the pressure clamping down on my chest.

Grayson raked a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “God, when you hear what I tell you, you’re going to realize how disturbing the imagine of Josie and me together is.”

Liana looked confused. “Why? Because she looks like your sister? I will admit the idea worried me that you’d bring home a girl who is the spitting image of Kenna.”

“Mom, just stop,” he interrupted before she could dig herself into a further hole. “Josie is not my girlfriend. I repeat. We are not dating. She’s sort of hook—uh, seeing Brock,” he quickly amended.

My cheeks flamed again. This was not going at all as I had planned. It was way worse. The last thing I wanted was to be made out a slut. I thought about pinching Grayson under the arm, but I realized I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

A tension had moved into the room between the three of us. It was best if Grayson blurted it out like ripping off a Band-Aid.

He must have had the same idea. “She’s your daughter,” he finally spat out. “I should have told you when she showed up.”

A pin could have dropped in the room, and it would have sounded like a shotgun going off.

No one said a thing. The three of us just stared awkwardly at each other as Liana digested the information.

Shock. Confusion. Fear. Uncertainty.

The range of emotions flooding the office bounced from one spectrum to the other and could be seen in her face. Her posture was so straight. She blinked. “What did you say?”

“Josie is your daughter. The one you thought you lost,” Grayson explained, speaking just a little slower this time instead of rushing the truth.

Her eyes so much like mine dashed from her son to me. She looked at me with a different perspective, considering. The resemblance was undeniable, but not proof enough. “Why would you believe that?” she asked Grayson. “Don’t get me wrong, her resemblance to your sister is uncanny, but Grayson, that doesn’t mean she is your sister. She died.”

“I have proof,” Grayson disclosed. “The baby you thought died had been switched in the hospital. Josie is that baby.”

Paling slightly, she scolded, “Grayson, this isn’t funny. Don’t play with my emotions. If this is one of your—”

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